The Two Cities: Edoras
by Teresa Martin
Summary: Been done before, I'm sure. The brothers from Gondor arrive in Rohan three years before the War of the Ring and meet Eowyn.
1. Arriving at the Golden Hall

Rain and wind pelted the men from Gondor as they trudged up to the gate at Edoras, their horses in tow. Their servant knocked loudly on the gate. When nobody answered, the brothers looked at each other quizzically. They should have been expected. At length, the door was opened with no greeting but a   
  
"Who knocks so late?"  
  
"The captains of Gondor," the servant replied.  
  
The eyes widened at the pronouncement. "Of course, enter, please."  
  
Forth they went into Edoras and slowly climbed the slippery steps to the Golden Hall, the wind chilling them. Before them creaked open the dark hall of Meduseld. There the men were bidden to wait. And wait.  
  
No room were they given, nor any refreshment  
  
"This discourtesy is inexcusable" Boromir growled to his brother. "Is this how it stands between Rohan and Gondor?"  
  
"Wait, brother," Faramir said gently, "For we know nothing as of yet."  
  
"What we know is that Princes of Gondor are left waiting in a dreary hall without so much as a greeting," Boromir replied, and brooded in silence.  
  
At length a figure appeared, dark and menacing. Boromir steeped up to him and without preamble demanded to see Theoden, King of the Golden Hall.  
  
"He wishes not to see you," the man replied.  
  
An astonished silence. Slowly Boromir gained composure and said in measured words, "Very well, then. We wanted a message from Rohan and I believe that we have received it. Come, brother."   
  
Faramir dutifully followed, but stopped Boromir before the door. "Surely they will not leave us to be sent out into the rain. Wait but a minute," he counseled in a low voice.  
  
As though in reply to Faramir's plea, a servant approached. "My lords, we wish you to stay and accept our hospitality until the morrow. I will show you to some rooms. "  
  
"We accept, gladly," Faramir said quickly, before Boromir could reply.  
  
They were led to a dark room. "A fire will be lit," the servant said. "Food and drink will arrive presently."  
  
"We thank you," Faramir said.  
  
"Help from Rohan does not seem to be forthcoming," Boromir commented.  
  
"Help from the King," Faramir corrected. "But I have heard rumors that the King is failing. His young son may soon be King. We should use this time to seek to speak with him."  
  
"And his cousin, the Lady Eowyn. Father was keen that we court her. "  
  
Faramir bit his lower lip uncomfortably, "Indeed, so that Gondor could gain a foothold here."  
  
Boromir laid a hand on his shoulder, "To ally together against Mordor."  
  
Farair quietly added, "Or take control."  
  
"If need be. These are dark times and we cannot afford to wait while our lands are taken from us. But I would rather an alliance." He smiled wickedly, "And I would prefer that you do the duty. My bachelorhood is presently keeping me well content!"  
  
Faramir called him a name never said in front of ladies and replied, "We will do as our father wishes! But I hope neither of us is compelled to ask for her hand. Marriages should not be made in times such as these, and in a land so troubled."  
  
Boromir nodded, and the men sat again to drink when a knock was heard on the door. They stood as a young lady entered cautiously. A watchman stood by her.  
  
The lady appeared tired, pale, and she spoke in a low voice, "My lords, please accept our apologies. My Uncle is not well, and there was a miscommunication. I beg of you to tarry here longer than the morrow. My brother and cousin, heir to the throne, should arrive within this day or the next. They have been eager to meet with you."  
  
Boromir's face immediately transformed into a charming smile, "Then I understand that my brother and I have the honor of speaking with the Lady Eowyn?"  
  
She nodded in assent.  
  
He and Faramir exchanged glances. "We are indeed sorry for the confusion. We accept your kind invitation."  
  
"Thank you, Lord Boromir. And Lord Faramir. You are welcome here." Eowyn looked ill at ease and excused herself.  
  
Boromir cocked an eyebrow at Faramir. "You have again with your voice seemed to conjure the person we needed."  
  
Faramir ignored the comment being pensive, "Fair she is, but unwell."  
  
Boromir nodded, "In spirits at least. Which would appear to benefit us. I am heartened that she believes Theodred would speak to us. Indeed, brother, much can be learned at Rohan over the next weeks. It would indeed benefit us to stay. This could begin the alliance we have been looking for."  
  
"So it would seem." Faramir agreed. "The heir at least has something to say to us. Much can be accomplished. Father was correct in his instincts. Again, he seems to have known more than we."  
  
"A gift of his," Boromir agreed, drinking deeply from his ale. "Now I will find it hard to sleep, my curiosity peaked as it is."  
  
Faramir laid himself on the bed. "Then you wait with the night. I will take my rest."  
  
Boromir replied with an affectionate curse and a kick, and laughing, Faramir closed his eyes. 


	2. At the Break of Dawn

Boromir was already awake when Faramir opened his eyes. He was stoking the fire that cracked and popped. Faramir rubbed his eyes and joined him. The room seemed to ooze the wetness from the land, and the men sought in vain to ease the chill. Packets of tobacco were shared and they smoked.  
  
"A curious beginning," Faramir mused. "What must we do but wait stoking the fire until the Prince comes?"  
  
"Or until the king will see us," Boromir agreed. "If he indeed wants us here."  
  
"It was clear the lady did."  
  
A grin spread across Boromirs' face. "How could she not?"  
  
Faramir rolled his eyes. Then grew pensive. "Does Father truly wish us to court her?"  
  
"Father wants us to court Rohan's cavalry. If the lady helps in that, so be it."  
  
Boromir took another puff of smoke. "Once we meet with Theodred, then more will be clear. How much the lady would play a role remains to be seen." Eyes turned toward Faramir, "If it would help, would you?"  
  
"Would I? Of course, if that's what Father wants of me," his brother answered.  
  
Boromir leaned forward in his chair. "But what of you?"  
  
"You ask as though it really does depend on me. But wasn't the order for both of us to be friendly, and you, the firstborn, need be married first."  
  
"Perhaps," Boromir conceded. "But then these are different times. And Father has told me that he would prefer the future Steward be married to a lady of Gondor."  
  
"He has?" Faramir frowned, "Why did you not speak this sooner? Even as of last night I knew it not."  
  
"Because I know not," Boromir emphasized the word. "Nothing is set, but death, and that hopefully at an old age. I do not know if I would obey Father in this or whether I would urge you to. Options are open."  
  
Faramir shook his head. "No, you would do as he wishes, as I would."  
  
No reply came, and the men sat smoking until Boromir spoke again, "I do not wish to marry, or if I must, for years yet to come."  
  
"And Father would honor your will above mine," Faramir said, not with self-pity. "Very well. Things are clearer for me."  
  
Now Boromir shook his head. "Nay, not so." Another puff of smoke. "In any case, she is fair to look at."  
  
"Fair," Faramir agreed, "but sad. One needs more of a wife than a comely visage. If that were my reason to marry, I would have taken a wife years ago."  
  
"Ah, but if she is sad, then you could let her smile again!" Boromir grinned again.  
  
Faramir scoffed. "You would be better at achieving that than I."  
  
"Too true. But we must make do with what we have."  
  
Faramir turned grave. "No jest, brother. This is serious."  
  
"I know," Boromir likewise transformed to sobriety. "Deadly serious." 


	3. On the Plains of Rohan

Presently the brothers were led into the great hall where they breakfasted with the Lady of Rohan and some other nobles. Conversation was sparse, and there seemed to be an air of waiting, only broken when word came of the Prince's arrival. Two men burst into the Hall, and Eowyn crossed the room to them. Then she led them to the lords of Gondor, who rose in respect. The men of Rohan bowed in greeting and sat down to the meal.  
  
"Forgive us, lords. If we had known of your coming, we would have prepared a better welcome for you," Theodred apologized.  
  
"Apparently our message was lost. No ill feelings, though we hope we have not imposed," Boromir replied.  
  
"Indeed not," Theodred insisted, "for we have just returned from a long journey and will be here for days yet."  
  
The lady Eowyn served her brother and cousin, something the men of Gondor thought curious as nobles were always served. As they finished the meal, the ill-looking man from the night before joined them. The air could not have gotten chillier had a blizzard burst through the room.  
  
Theodred began slowly, "This is Wormtongue, the advisor to my father."  
  
"And his spokesman," Wormtongue added sharply looking to the brothers. Boromir's eyes widened in response to the man's rudeness. "And I told you," dark eyes fixed on Boromir, "it was his will for you to leave."  
  
Boromir looked to Theodred who, to his astonishment, only lowered his eyes.   
  
His temper rising, Boromir threw down his napkin, scraped back his chair, and stood, facing the villain. "Perhaps you are in need of knowing that you are speaking to the next Steward of Gondor, and you, sir, are a mere servant of this Hall." All sat silent and tense waiting for what would happen. Wormtongue began to reply, but Boromir interrupted him. "I will not to continue this discourse, and would prefer to go for a ride. Perhaps you will know your place by the time I return!"  
  
He turned and stalked from the hall while all sat agape, wondering what to do. Slowly Faramir rose and without a word turned to follow his brother, loyally following his lead.  
  
"Wait!" Theodred's voice stopped Faramir, and Theodred strode up to him, "I believe I will join you."   
  
Likewise Eomer and Eowyn rose and walked from the Hall leaving Wormtongue alone to fume.  
  
*  
  
Once they exited the large doors, the young nobles--one of Minas Tirith, the three of Edoras-quickened their speed to the stables where they met Boromir. Theodred went to him. "I know not whether your actions are for good or ill, my lord, but I am grateful. You have said what loyalty to my father prevents me."  
  
"Your father suffers you to be ordered by a lesser servant?" Boromir asked, astonished.  
  
"Times have changed," Theodred returned apologetically. "Ever since Wormtongue's help with the previous evacuation to Helm's Deep, my father has put his trust in him."  
  
"A pity," Boromir commented, "Well then that my father sent us here. Now I see why he was anxious and entreated me to make haste on this errand, one that I am only now beginning to comprehend."  
  
Theodred's puzzlement showed. "Sir, I am confused by your talk, but please, I wish to learn more. Let us ride and discuss far from prying eyes."  
  
After mounting their horses, the party galloped away from the city.  
  
*  
  
Finally, after an hour of riding, Theodred stopped on top of a hill. They dismounted and sat on the grass watching the wind blow across the plains until Theodred began, "Now, my lords, let us talk without fear of listening ears." Boromir looked to the lady and her brother. Theodred noticed the gaze. "There is nothing that you may say to me that you cannot to them. All three of us are as one."  
  
Boromir swallowed, wondering how much to say, while Faramir worried about how much he would.  
  
"Indeed. Let me lay it out before you," Boromir began. "We are presently being attacked on many fronts by Orc raiders, disorganized but persistant. My brother has spent much time in Ithillien as a ranger while I have been rallying defenses of the cities. But if Rohan is not secure, our work would be in vain."  
  
Theodred interrupted. "Rohan has been attacked and raided, but no serious danger threatens us."  
  
"Yet," Boromir challenged.  
  
"What would you ask?" Eomer spoke for the first time.  
  
"Your cavalry is renowned, " Boromir answered, turning to the Prince's cousin, "and in the past you have patrolled both Rohan and Gondor, guarding our troops. Lately that has not been the case. We wish to discover why and see if we could make perhaps a new alliance, a stronger one, where our troops would also protect Rohan. Then perhaps you would be more willing to answer our calls for help and ride with us, as of years gone by."  
  
Theodred shook his head. "Father has lately desired isolation for Rohan, and to stay away from the wars. I doubt he would renew the patrols, or permit Gondorian troops in our land."  
  
"We have been allies for hundreds of years! Why now, in our great danger, can you not agree to mutual support?" Boromir wanted to know.  
  
"I said that was my father's wish, and I must honor it." Theodred answered softly.   
  
"Yes," Boromir said slowly, comprehending the Prince's predicament. "You must know then that if you will not be present for us in our need, it is likely Gondor will not be present for Rohan when you are attacked?"  
  
"I understand there are two-sides to an alliance," Theodred replied, "and I wish that Gondor would be generous to us, even if we are not."  
  
"As it has always been," Boromir said bitterly. "Gondor pays the price in blood while you are kept safe. Elves and dwarves, too, have been leeches living on our people's sacrifices. Though not for long, I fear."  
  
Boromir exchanged a glance with Faramir who had sat silently not wishing to usurp his brother, as it appeared Eomer and Eowyn were also doing for their cousin.  
  
"I am sorry, my lord," Theodred replied, bringing Boromir's attention back to him. "As long as my father is king, this will not change. We have tried." He bit his lip, clearly his thoughts in turmoil. "I know that if we do not unite again, nobody will be safe in the world of men."  
  
Then came a long pause as Boromir considered bringing up another point. His mind made up, he changed the focus "There is another possibility to help this situation." He began slowly, his eyes turning to Eowyn. "Both my brother and I are unmarried."   
  
This received a response from Eomer who was visibly startled. "You understand me, do you not?" Boromir asked.  
  
"Indeed." Eomer looked to his sister next to him, whose eyes widened, and she instinctively moved closer to her brother. "Surely you must not have a sister, sir, to speak so boldly!"  
  
"I have not, but I see what you feel, and know how I would respond had I a sister." Boromir turned to Eowyn, "And I must ask your pardon, my lady. But your cousin said that you are all as one, and I would mislead nobody." Eowyn still did not speak.  
  
"Would Gondor truly wish to marry one from another land?" Theodred asked.  
  
"Yes, in these dark times."  
  
"So a new alliance may be achieved unofficially because we would come to the aid of family." Theodred spoke aloud his thoughts.  
  
Boromir nodded.  
  
"And if my sister does not wish it?" Eomer asked sharply.  
  
"There will be nothing done against anyone's will," Bormomir replied. "We know not how this will play out. Except that we must unite! Perhaps I spoke too soon, but I must repeat that I did not wish to hide our intentions." Silence. "And see if they would not be unwelcome."  
  
A look passed between the Prince and Eomer. It seemed as though a silent conversation were occurring, one which ended when Theodred said to Boromir. "My cousin and I must confer."  
  
"By all means."  
  
And in awkward silence the young nobles mounted their horses and returned to the Golden Hall. 


	4. A night at Edoras

Alone, the brothers again smoked by their hearth. Silence reigned until Faramir spoke. "At least we cannot say that we did not leave anything unsaid."  
  
"Diplomacy, brother," Boromir replied, stirring. "Not as Father would, I realize, but I saw no need to draw things out."  
  
Faramir nodded thoughtfully. "Right you may be, for at least we will settle the question quickly and I may return to the east."  
  
Boromir raised his eyebrows, "So eager are you to leave?"  
  
"Not leave you, brother, but to protect Gondor. If our efforts here would not be successful, then I would that we move on."  
  
Boromir's face softened, "Indeed. The work of Gondor troubles me as well."  
  
Presently the brothers were summoned to the evening meal. This time there were only the brothers of Gondor and the cousins of Rohan.  
  
"We have taken council," Theodred told them, with no preamble, "and would let you know that while we forbid nothing, we promise nothing either."  
  
Eomer added, "No permission will be given for courtship, but I will allow you to make my sister's acquaintance."  
  
Boromir smiled at his brother before turning that expression on the cousins. "That is all we ask." The men shook hands, and Boromir added, "For now."  
  
*  
  
An hour later Faramir sat idly staring into the fire as Theodred and Boromir began a game of chess. Presently the latter remarked on Faramir's love of learning to which Theodred answered that Meduseld had a library. Excusing himself, Faramir gratefully sought it out.   
  
Since the library was dark, he lit a lone candle and was startled to see the room occupied. The tear-stained face of Eowyn was before him. Faramir hastily muttered an apology and backed out of the room.  
  
Awkwardly he stood in the hallway, wondering whether to join the increasingly loud chess game, or to wait for the lady. He did not have long to deliberate as she came out quickly and Faramir went to her. When she stopped and turned to him, he said, "I must ask your apologies if this afternoon's conversation has distressed you."  
  
Stony eyes met his, "Indeed not, my lord. Your coming has brought no new concerns into my thoughts. Pray do not distress yourself."  
  
Then she walked away while he watched her deep in thought.  
  
Presently Faramir entered the great hall again where the chess game was continuing, yet not very skillfully as pieces would be knocked over as ale consumption increased. By midnight, the game was abandoned and the men took to telling stories of their alleged courage, finally dissolving into the singing of songs. The night only ended when they stumbled to their bedchambers as Eomer and Boromir with tears in their eyes embraced and declared an undying devotion and friendship that only death would part. 


	5. A Hope Revealed

Eowyn undressed herself slowly, distracted and down in spirits. Crying her eyes out was a nightly routine, yet tonight's had some purpose, for the darkness seemed to give her an answer. Leaving with the men of Gondor would not bring her distress, but rather freedom. Or something a liken to it. Her Uncle was slowly growing beyond her reach, her brother and cousin were gone most days of the weeks, and the vile Grima followed her everywhere.  
  
Tears filled her eyes as she considered leaving, despite the freedom it would provide from Grima, for she did love her family, her Uncle especially. It saddened her nearly to madness that he ignored her of late. Moreover, it broke her heart to think that this would be the last she'd see of him. He would most likely never recover from the illness of the mind that plagued him.  
  
And her brother. To leave him. A fresh wave of tears flowed as she considered Eomer, and Theodred, more a brother than a cousin. Moreover, the thought of these strangers taking her away frightened her.  
  
Abruptly then, she rebuked herself and violently wiped her eyes, determined. It was foolish to weep when her dreams were coming true. She'd always known that a man would ride in and take her away from Grima. How ungrateful to waste the opportunity with sentimentality. The women of Rohan had always been realists; strong and stoic in the face of adversity.  
  
Let her go then to the White City and embrace a new life. For there, nobody would ride away to leave her at the mercy of a foul man like Grima. Perhaps her husband would not be affectionate, perhaps she would often be alone, but she'd be free.  
  
In her nightdress now, Eowyn searched through her chest of drawers; picking out pieces of jewelry that she knew flattered her. She must be as feminine and beautiful as she could make herself to appeal to these men, and they would choose her. Which brother, she cared not, and if the afternoon's conversation were any indication, neither did they.  
  
Now she pulled dresses out of her wardrobe and laid them across her bed, pondering which style of hair would most match the cut. She turned to a looking glass and practiced a smile. No, that did not come easily, but it mattered little for most men cared not for a woman's expression but rather the body that adorned it.  
  
Choosing her wardrobe for the coming days took more than an hour until she finally went to sleep, ready for the morrow.  
  
*  
  
"Boromir."  
  
A groan came in response.  
  
"Boromir!"  
  
"Speak again at your peril!" Growled the thing under the covers.  
  
"Very well, then, you sleep while I work to save Gondor!"  
  
Something flew toward Faramir's head, but he did not even need to duck as there was no peril of the object meeting its target. Faramir stalked off, a smile about his lips, and entered the Golden Hall. All was quiet as a tomb. He wandered to the fire and began warming himself.  
  
"You are awake, my lord," a low, slightly surprised voice made him stir.  
  
Faramir stood, "Yes, my lady, the others are still resting." His eyes beheld the lady of Rohan who looked well in a dress Faramir had not seen before, matched with modest jewelry. "I . . . am not certain when they will awaken."  
  
The lady pressed her lips together, creating a thin line, "Not surprising. For them, and I presumed yourself, I have been brewing a remedy."  
  
Faramir replied slowly, "I see." He looked to her. "I alone did not imbibe."  
  
She nodded. "Then I will summon the servants to give you some breakfast and tell my Uncle that you are awake. I am sure he will join you."  
  
"He is better, then?" Faramir asked.  
  
"Somewhat," the lady responded. "He recognizeed your names, or at least your father's, and expressed a wish to see you. Please wait, and he will come presently."  
  
Faramir sat, marveling at the eloquence of the lady following the sparse words she had spoken in previous days. After a few moments, the king arrived on his niece's arm.  
  
Faramir fell to one knee in respect, and they breakfasted. Not much was spoken and Eowyn seemed as puzzled as he about the king's interest in Faramir, distractedly asking of the Steward and insisting that there be a feast in the visitors' honor. After the meal, the king expressed the need to retire. He went away with Eowyn's help, when a venomous voice rebuked her.  
  
"I told you that he needed his rest!" Into view strode Wormtongue who leaned toward Eowyn then froze at the sight of Faramir," . . . and I am pleased, " the voice turned sickly sweet, "that you decided to heed my advice. Your poor Uncle is very ill." Wormtongue nodded his head at Faramir as he led the king away and Eowyn reluctantly followed.  
  
Faramir considered the scene that had just played before him. This Wormtongue indeed had a hold on the house of Theoden, yet he seemed to lose his audacity in the presence of the Gondorians. Or rather, after Boromir's speech of the day before, his foul manner had vanished. Often the malevolent flee like cowards at the sign of even the smallest resistance. Yet what was it in these people of Rohan that forbid them to offer even that?   
  
Pondering these things, Faramir returned to his quarters and again attempted to wake his brother, this time rudely tearing off the bed covers.  
  
A stream of curses and a punch to the jaw was Faramir's reward, which he took in stride, as he bade his brother hearken to him for he had seen the king. 


	6. The Lady and the Cure

The Lady Eowyn set a goblet full of a foul-smelling liquid in front of Boromir. He smiled at her, nodding his thanks, and after a moments pause, she nearly smiled back.  
  
"I think I am beginning to appreciate the lady more," Boromir commented. His gaze followed her as she walked away.  
  
"Now that she is more favorably attired, she is fair to you?" Faramir asked, only a little annoyed.  
  
"No, imbecile!" Boromir retorted. "Because she has sympathy for a man who has had a night of fun. Such ladies are a rare treasure."  
  
Faramir gestured to the goblet. "You may think differently once you sample her cure."   
  
"Rarely are there pleasant remedies for what ails me, so it would be naught to hold against her." Hesitating but a moment, Boromir downed the drink in one gulp, made a face, and leaned in, whispering knowingly, "But thank you for pointing out her attire to me. It appears you take notice!"  
  
Faramir scoffed, "One of us should be astute."  
  
"And you are doing an excellent job!" Boromir grinned from ear to ear. Faramir opened his mouth to continue the repartee when Boromir waved his hand, indicating that he wished to change the subject.  
  
He spoke low. "So the King was gracious to you. Then it must be that the only one who does not want us here is that thing with the face of a horse's posterior. Who also happens to be a coward. It should not be difficult to fulfill our task."  
  
"Truly?" Faramir asked.   
  
Boromir replied, "Indeed! For we now are hopeful. Two ways lie before us: we stay in the king's graces, leave as friends, and he obliges us by dying soon. Theodred then helps Gondor."  
  
"And the other way?"  
  
"We stay awhile longer, court the lady and the king, then bring her home with us. We'll be assured of Rohan's help because of the marriage."  
  
"In but a few weeks," Faramir mused.  
  
"Why not? It happened with our mother." Bormoir lit his pipe. "It's a contract, not a renewed manifestation of Beren and Luthien's love, or other such nonsense."  
  
"Love," Faramir nodded. "I agree that is not what we seek. But what if both plans fail-the king does not die or he won't let us court the lady?"  
  
"Then Father seeks another way. That is for him to decide and us to obey."  
  
Faramir sobered. "Indeed." He knew what obedience to his father cost.  
  
Both men started as Eomer burst into the room, stumbling as a man blinded while attempting to find the bench where the brothers sat. Eowyn followed in his wake and served him the cure, affectionately rubbing his back as he drank. Eomer then turned to Boromir and suggested they go riding.  
  
Enthusiastically Boromir rose from the table and the men were seen no more till dawn of the next day.  
  
*  
  
Left alone, Faramir sought out the library and set himself to reading. He opened the nearest scroll and found poetry, opened another, and found the same.  
  
"It is all such." Faramir looked up from his scroll to see the Lady Eowyn watching him from the corner. She continued, "We in Rohan keep our history in song. Only of late, at my poor mother's request, were our stories put into written form." She looked at him. "Not many come in here."  
  
"But you, my lady," Faramir observed.  
  
"I am not fond of reading," she replied, "but rather I desire the quiet this room affords."  
  
Faramir nodded, wondering what to say.  
  
Eowyn wandered around, looking here and there, then silently took her leave.  
  
And once more Faramir found himself unable to enjoy the library, distracted as he was by this poignant lady.  
  
*  
  
Applause erupted at the latest move Boromir performed. He was engaged in a sparring match with Theodred. Faramir sat near Eowyn observing the sport with many nobles and villagers. He was grateful that he was not a part of the show. Though he was an able warrior, he was not comfortable performing before crowds. Boromir rather was in his element and often flashed smiles at the groups of admiring ladies. Eowyn also smiled at the elder brother and he came to speak with her. Faramir stayed silent noting that Eomer and Theodred also had their admirers among the ladies. Those present would then be staying late for a feast held in the men's honor. Much anticipation was among all, for those not among the nobles had also planned a night of dancing in the streets of Edoras. Eomer in confidence had told Boromir that the feast would move there after things in Meduseld settled into quiet. The latter had smiled wickedly in answer.  
  
Faramir sighed. It was to be a long night. 


	7. Awakening

Eowyn awoke the next morning to great contentment. She had enjoyed the attention of Boromir at the feast. On one occasion, he even caused her to laugh aloud. She smiled at the memory. These visitors were charming and fun. Moreover, they brought protection. Since their arrival, Wormtongue had been cowed, and now it appeared he had disappeared altogether. Nobody knew to where and Eowyn did not care. He was gone!  
  
She smiled again as she dressed with care. Not that there was any need for haste, for the men had been about Edoras till dawn. Eowyn had seen them return from her window, and she knew that this morning even the gentle one would be incapacitated for hours. She laughed aloud at the thought.   
  
She had not felt this contented in years.  
  
*  
  
Faramir it was who now lay under the blankets groaning while his brother tried to coax him out of bed.  
  
"Up, up now," Boromir insisted. " We have business to attend to!"  
  
"Please, have some mercy," Faramir pleaded.  
  
"You had none on me previously," Boromir retorted. "Besides, plenty of time for mercy later. I wish to speak with you." He whipped the covers off his brother.  
  
Groaning Faramir rolled out of bed and joined Boromir by the fire, holding his head. "Where is that dear lady with her remedy?"  
  
"Presently, presently," Boromir waved a hand dismissively.  
  
"Very well, you have an earnest preoccupation. Out with it then!"  
  
Boromir announced. "I believe that we may leave soon for Gondor!"  
  
"Leave?" Faramir sat up a little straighter.  
  
"Brother, there is no problem here, but a pesky worm of a man who ran away from us. We can return to Gondor with the pledge of goodwill from the king."  
  
Faramir considered his words, "And the lady?"  
  
Boromir paused, "We don't need her. Though I do enjoy her. She melted last night. Never have I seen her more fair and happy."  
  
"But you don't want to marry her?" Faramir pressed.  
  
"Of course not. I wish not to marry at all. That has not changed."  
  
Faramir rubbed his head and asked quietly, "You want me to marry her, then?  
  
"Only if father orders it," Boromir answered. "But I believe we will have Rohan with us without the marriage. Especially after what was said last night between myself and Theodred."  
  
"A pledge made while intoxicated is not binding in law, even in Rohan," Faramir warned.  
  
Boromir snorted in reply.  
  
"Look to it, Boromir!" Faramir insisted.  
  
"Very well," Boromir conceded. "Hours will tell if all is remembered."  
  
"And then we leave?" Faramir asked.  
  
"Presently, but with the riders of the Mark. They wish to accompany us to the borders, and then resume a patrol." Boromir looked at Faramir. "You would be sorry to go?"  
  
"I would not have thought it but a few days ago," Faramir replied, "but the time here has been a welcome respite."  
  
"Indeed," Boromir agreed. "But consider we are to be graced with a week of riding and camping with the great horsemen of the Mark!" He tasseled Faramir's hair, "Look to that little brother, and think how for us, life is good."  
  
*  
  
AN: sorry it took so long to update. I'm having trouble with this section of the story. 


	8. The Camp of the Rohirrim

The riders of Rohan and the brothers of Gondor rested after their day of riding, hunting, then feasting as they made their way south. But while the fire that the Rohirrim had set in camp warmed Faramir, it did not comfort him.   
  
He found the melancholy face of Lady Eowyn haunting him. Had it been only a few nights since she had laughed aloud and danced with him?  
  
He recalled only the morning before.  
  
"Leave? So soon?" the lady of Rohan had asked in a low voice.  
  
"Yes, my lady," Boromir had replied. "Gondor calls, and we have pleasantly accomplished the renewal of our friendships. But fear not," Boromir had said hastily, seeing her fallen face, "we will not forget our friends."  
  
A sad, slow smile answered Boromir. Eomer had leaned over and kissed Eowyn on the cheek, promising with a smile not to leave her alone for long.  
  
And Faramir had paced the halls of Meduseld, unable to sleep. He had watched the lady carefully at the meal, and could discern her disappointment. Perhaps she had been looking forward to a marriage. But then, they had not been given permission to court her. He pondered.   
  
  
  
Then he had passed the library, unconsciously at first, then realizing that he hoped to meet Lady Eowyn there, as he often had before. He was not disappointed. After opening the door, he beheld her sorrow.  
  
Unable to receive a reply to inquiries he had finally asked earnestly, "If there is anything I may do to alleviate your distress, my Lady, please but tell me!"  
  
Sadly she had shaken her head. Still mute.  
  
"I am sorry, my lady," Faramir had replied, "I have been too forward and will leave you now." He made to withdraw.  
  
At this, she shook her head.   
  
Faramir then was aghast, truly not knowing what to do.   
  
As though unbidden words rushed out of her, "I wish I could ride with you out of here."  
  
Not knowing or caring if the 'you' was singular, or plural, Faramir took a few steps toward her, passionate despite himself, "That is not necessary, for you are safe. Especially now."  
  
She shook her head again. Tears pouring down her face anew.  
  
  
  
"Would you not then speak of what I may do? For I cannot leave you in such distress."   
  
She was silent.   
  
Faramir stood immobile, frustrated yet knowing the bounds of propriety that kept him from inquiring further. Yet boldly he chose to give her the only comfort he was able, and stepping toward her, laid a hand on her bowed head. Speaking gently into her ear, he had whispered. "I am sorry. So very sorry."   
  
*  
  
"You fancy her, don't you?"  
  
Faramir's head raised at the sound of his brother's voice, "Who?"  
  
"The lady?"  
  
"There would be something wrong with me if I did not!" Faramir attempted a laugh.  
  
"Brother . .." Boromir warned.  
  
Faramir threw a stick into the fire, "I am afraid that perhaps we treated her ill," he admitted.  
  
"Ill? We weren't permitted to court her! And there was, and still is I might add, a hope that permission may be granted. It is not as though we gave her attention knowing we were not free, as men sometimes do when they are pledged to another. With her, marriage is a real possibility." He took a drink, "Surely there was no disappointment!"  
  
"I suppose not," Faramir shook his head. "Nevertheless, I feel there was some hope that we frustrated."   
  
Boromir looked sharply at his brother now, "You know this for certain?"  
  
Faramir did not answer, but took a breath, "Brother, after we return to Gondor, I believe that I will pursue this with Father."  
  
"Then you do fancy her," Boromir stated quietly.   
  
"We cannot leave her there," was Faramir's reply.  
  
Boromir laid a hand on his shoulder, and said gently, "But she is not our responsibility, only her family's. If that wormfool worries you, know that if he makes a wrong move, my wrath will smite him!"  
  
"Even when you are so far away?" Faramir's eyebrows rose.  
  
Boromir's silence conceded the point.  
  
"I wish to pursue it," Faramir repeated softly.  
  
"Then I, little brother," Boromir patted his arm, "will help you." 


	9. The White City

The brothers breathed a sigh of joy upon seeing the White City. Boromir's smile grew wider as he heard the cry go out that the lords of Gondor had returned.  
  
Faramir laughed, "You never grow weary of that, do you?"  
  
Boromir shook his head, "And no shame brother. It is for Gondor that we struggle. Nothing compares to the joy of being welcomed to the home that we are defending."  
  
"But now we must meet with Father."  
  
Boromir nodded, and reluctantly the brothers rode toward the house of the Steward.  
  
*  
  
The brothers stood before their father as Denethor praised Boromir for making contact again with the Riders of Rohan.  
  
"Even without the girl! My first born, you have again made your father proud!"  
  
"Faramir was there to help too, father," Boromir reminded him.  
  
"Yes, indeed. Thank you Faramir for your presence." He nodded gratuitously towards his youngest, and returned his attention to Boromir. "You have something to add?"  
  
Boromir began cautiously, "Despite our success, I still believe that a marriage should be arranged. As long as Theoden lives, we are on uncertain ground."  
  
Denethor's eyes rose in astonishment, "You wish it?"  
  
"No, father, you have made your preferences known, and I would not go against that."  
  
Denethor replied, "As I never doubted." Acknowledging Faramir's presence for only the second time, Denethor spoke, "So you, Faramir, could make yourself useful in this. More so than you have in other ways, for I've heard that poetry and studies with wizards are no impediment to fathering an heir, I hope. Perhaps I will need to wait nine months for proof of that!"  
  
Faramir's face remained immobile. Boromir, however, flinched visibly at the insult and he defended his brother, "He would do this for you, Father, at great sacrifice to himself."  
  
"Faramir only acts for himself, as always," Denethor shot back to Boromir, as though the younger brother were not present. Turning then to Faramir, he inquired, "The lady is comely then? Have you already written her a book of Elvish sonnets?"  
  
Faramir met his father's gaze, "No, my lord," he replied quietly, "The lady is not acquainted with the Elvish tongue."  
  
Denethor scowled. "Enough of that, for in truth there was no surprise that a match be made between you and the lady of Rohan. I will send a letter of proposal, presently." Looking to Faramir, "Would that satisfy?"  
  
"As you wish, Father," Faramir replied.  
  
"I know not whether I wish it or no!" Denethor snapped. "No matter, you will do your duty and father me an heir. Make yourself valuable for once" Denethor rose from his seat, addressing the elder, "Boromir, walk with me. I wish of news of Osgiliath."  
  
Putting his arm around his eldest's shoulders, the Steward of Gondor turned from Faramir and walked from the room. 


	10. Hope Removed

Boromir went in search of his brother and came upon him in the local inn where officers frequented. As usual, the presence of the heir caused a stir, and Boromir shrugged, indifferent, as he ordered ale. After a look at Faramir, he decided on a double. He joined him then at his usual corner table. Boromir was on his second ale before Faramir brought up the conversation with their father.  
  
"What meant he, that he was not surprised of the match?"  
  
"Often father has a far seeing eye," Boromir replied. "You know that."   
  
Faramir nodded, "For reasons long rumored, which is why . . ."  
  
"We should not talk of that," Boromir interrupted. " I am mindful of what awaits me when I become Steward. I would not concern myself with it until the time arrives."  
  
Faramir took another sip of ale, before saying, "As you wish." After a moment, he continued, "Father sends me to Ithillien again."  
  
"I know."  
  
"Back to our responsibilities, then," Faramir sighed. "Only after months, I suppose, will I have news of the White Lady of Rohan."  
  
Boromir looked confused, "Which Lady?"  
  
"Lady Eowyn," Faramir colored slightly. "A way I've come to think of her."  
  
"I see," Boromir took a drink of ale, not even attempting to hide a grin. "Yes, we will know." Silence. "You do have Elven poetry for her, don't you?"  
  
A hearty laugh erupted from Faramir in defiance of his previous melancholy, "That's for you to guess, brother. My lips are silent on the matter."  
  
Boromir slapped a hand on his brother's shoulder roaring with laughter, and ordered more ale.  
  
*  
  
Eowyn sat alone. Once again, she employed her guard to stay by her, now that Wormtongue had returned, and her brother and cousin left her.  
  
Again.  
  
And the men of Gondor were gone, all hope taken with them but the thread of hope that they would indeed still be interested in a match. That desperate feeling faded when there came no proposal, no visit, and not even a word of encouragement.   
  
But for that she chastised herself. She had known that one day a man would ride in and save her, and when the time came she had trusted her destiny to the good will of men. No more. She would never again allow her hope to leave without a struggle. Then she would fight for him, with him, and be safe.  
  
Eowyn did not realize how cold her face had become for she ceased to look in a mirror. Lethargically, she rang the bell, wishing for the maid to fix her hair.   
  
She was needed to wait on the ailing king.  
  
*  
  
"Boromir!" Faramir ran to embrace his brother by the Forbidden Pool. "What news send you here?"  
  
Boromir warmly returned his brother's embrace. "Father asked me to assess how the eastern boundaries were holding."  
  
Faramir's lips pressed together, "Because he did not trust assurances from my lips."  
  
"I am sorry, brother. One day Father will trust you."  
  
Faramir nodded. "Yes, after I have proven my worth. But then, he himself said that there was one way I could help him, and I admit about that I have been anxious for some time. What reply from Rohan?"  
  
Boromir's eyes cast down and Faramir knew the answer.  
  
"Better to tell me straight, than to prolong any anxiety," Faramir told his brother.  
  
"Rohan has no desire for the match," Boromir reluctantly relayed the news. "The king himself wrote to Father explaining that."  
  
"I see." Faramir walked away a few steps then declared, "Well, nothing more for it, then."  
  
Boromir clapped a hand on Faramir's shoulder. "I know how disappointed you must be."  
  
Faramir replied with a sad smile, "Yes, I am. But disappointment is our lot in these troubled times." He was quiet a moment, "It could be that the lady did not desire it."  
  
Boromir shook his head. "That, I doubt!"  
  
"Nay," Faramir contradicted, "for she was warmer to you. Around me she was always weeping."  
  
"Then she was more true to you. Any woman can smile around a man, but show her soul?"   
  
"Perhaps," Faramir conceded. "But no matter now, for the match is not to be. No use dwelling on the past. Let us look to the future." He smiled and called for ale. A ranger served the brothers promptly and they drank. Presently, the men were reliving stories of childhood and ale-induced exploits.  
  
So it was that in spite of the disappointment and bitterness of the present struggle, Faramir smiled. He had his brother.   
  
For that he could proclaim with sincerity that life was good.  
  
Very good indeed.  
  
The End  
  
Continued in the Sequel 'Redemption' 


End file.
